


Take Me to Church

by notaboogeyman



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaboogeyman/pseuds/notaboogeyman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you have been dead for as long as Violet has, you learn to let things go. Violet decides to absolve Tate's sins. Smutty goodness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to Church

**Author's Note:**

> Just some mindless smut. I've just broke away from a horrible writer's block, so please make sure to leave some suggestions on how I can approve! xxo

Tate knew it was only a matter of time before Violet came back to him. He knew what the house was capable of, how the scent of decay and despair would linger on the palette, attaching to the taste buds.

 

Sure, Violet had company at the moment. She had her family to occupy the loneliness in the pit of her stomach, but they were just a distraction. As each day passed, Tate could see the boredom settling on her body like a film of dust. Soon the cabin fever would settle in, drive her mad. There is no escape from this house, and there is no escape from the mind.

 

*******

 

Violet and Chad became good friends, and even though all the occupants of the house found them to be an unlikely couple, they both shared a passion of French wine, cigarettes, and cynical humor.

“So it goes.” Violet sighed, flicking ash off her cigarette before she took a long pull from the filter. Violet thought that those would’ve been great last words, but since she had been stuffed with sleeping pills that particular night, her mind had been too fuzzy to produce anything witty.

 

“Kurt Vonnegut? My, my, we must be moody today.” Chad teased, cocking a thick eyebrow.

 

Violet turned towards Chad and gave him an annoyed look. She tried to hold her expression for as long as possible, but ended up bursting into laughter with Chad, their laughs echoing down the street.

 

“What do you expect? I’m an eternal teenager. I’m full of angst and Sylvia Plath’s poetry. I would’ve stuck my head in the oven, but I feel like that’s suicidal plagiarism.”

 

Chad grinned, held up his wine glass and gave a silent toast to his companion.

 

Both of them grew quiet, keeping their thoughts to themselves as they watched the sunset from the gazebo. Violet rested her head of Chad’s shoulder, watching the sun dip below the horizon, wishing she could do the same.

 

Chad wrapped his arms around Violet, pulling her closer as he rested his chin on top of her head. Underneath his sarcastic, bulletproof exterior, Chad understood loss and longing. He always thought suffering, wanting, and craving were apart of the human condition and in his death, he expected to shrug off the mortal coil, or whatever bullshit that Hamlet was groaning on about. He realized now that this suffering would last forever.

 

When the last colors of the sunset disappeared under the horizon and the darkness started to creep in, Chad moved away and lit another cigarette. As he exhaled, he looked towards Violet, giving her a sad smile.

 

“You’re thinking of showing yourself to him.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement.

 

Violet clenched her jaw, looking back at the night sky. “I am.”

 

Chad nodded, taking another puff from his cigarette.

 

“When you’ve been dead for as long as I have, you learn to let things go.” Chad explained, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind Violet’s ear.

 

“I’m going to be stuck in this house with an unfaithful partner forever, so I realized I had to let go. You don’t have to forgive, but you need to forget. We’re dead, we’re bored, and we’re trapped here. So I decided to let go, because my need for companionship outweighed my anger.” Chad patted Violet on the knee and reached over to crush out his cigarette, a spray of orange embers pirouetted in the air.

 

With that, Chad got up and walked back into the house.

 

Violet bit down on her bottom lip, trying to stop the flood of tears that were threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks. She glanced up at the house and noticed that there was a dark silhouette standing at her bedroom window. When the figure turned to lie down on her bed, Violet noticed a flash of blonde hair and Converse sneakers.

 

At that point, Violet couldn’t help the anger that shook her entire body. If she was alive, her veins would be thrumming and her heart would be out of her chest. Before she could stop herself, she burst into her bedroom, the door slamming against the wall as she announced her arrival. Violet materialized in front of Tate, looking like a vision of pure anger, a femme fatal.

 

“Jesus, Violet.” Tate looked as if he had seen a ghost. He scrambled off the bed and backed himself towards her door.

 

Violet kept a close eye on him the whole time, crossing her arms against her chest. She tilted her head, listening to Tate’s pathetic babble. She would humor him for a little while.

 

After a few more seconds of Tate’s apologetic rambling, Violet pulled her shirt off then quickly undid her bra, sliding it off her shoulders and dropping it on to the floor. Tate went completely silent and looked away, trying to focus on anything but the milky expanse of skin that was in front of him.

 

“Look at me.” The words sounded harsh coming from Violet’s pink lips.

 

Tate forced himself to look up, locking eyes with Violet. Slowly, Tate let his eyes wander down to the swell of Violet’s breasts, down to the curve of her hips and back up to her eyes again. Tate felt himself hardening underneath his jeans and he had to bite his lips to stop a groan from escaping.

 

Violet bit down on her bottom lip to stop a vicious smile from spreading across her face. She kept telling herself that she just needed to tease and torture him for the night, and then she would be able to let go. Still, the faces of those students kept swarming her mind… and then there was Chad and Patrick, and her poor mother who bled out from birthing her half-brother. Violet shuddered and clenched her jaw.

 

“Don’t move a fucking muscle, Tate.” Violet spat out as she shimmied off her leggings and finally tossed aside her black panties.   
  
Tate groaned and slammed his head against the wall with a loud _crack._ Even from a few feet away he could see how Violet’s sex was slicked with want and how her upper thighs shined with wetness. Tate clenched his hands into such tight fists he thought the skin on his knuckles would split open.

 

Violet hopped on to her bed and made herself comfortable. She propped her feet on to the mattress and once she made sure her body was facing Tate, she let her legs fall open. Tate’s reaction was enough to make Violet blush a severe shade of red, but she wouldn’t give in to her modesty. She was here to make him suffer and crave.

 

“Fuck, Vi. What are you _doing_ to me?” Tate’s words came out garbled and practically ended in a whine. Violet watched as his already dark eyes turned to a shade of pitch black.

 

“I’m absolving you of your sins.” Violet sneered, snaking her hand down her stomach and onto her aching core. “Watch very closely and don’t even think about touching yourself.” Violet’s voice was coated with malice.

 

Tate bit down on his bottom lip and gave a meek nod of his head as he watched Violet slip two dainty fingers into herself.

 

“Ah!” Violet’s voice hitched as she bucked her hips. Slowly, and at a frustrating pace, she started to ride her fingers, making soft and desperate noises. Violet’s eyes were unwavering and she never lifted her gaze from Tate’s slack jawed expression.

 

Tate was amazed to say that first the first time in his whole life (and afterlife), he had no brain power for witty comments or biting remarks. All Tate could do was stand and stare as the front of his jeans became increasingly tighter with each second that passed.

 

“Christ, Violet. _Please._ You’re killing me, here.” Tate groaned as he watched Violet’s deft fingers circle her clit over and over again. Her breathy moans and satisfied sighs kept ringing in his ears and Tate was practically itching from lust.

 

Violet dug her heels into the mattress as she worked her clit in earnest. A familiar warmth started to swirl in the pit of her stomach. No matter how much she would have loved to come apart in front of Tate and leave him hard and untouched, she had to admit that she missed his skin and she needed him inside, _dammit._

 

“Get over here. _Now._ ” Violet groaned, looking up at Tate with half-lidded eyes.

 

Tate couldn’t help the groan of relief that escaped from his mouth and with a huge shit-eating grin he crawled on top of Violet and replaced her delicate fingers with his thicker ones. Tate practically hissed when he felt Violet’s slick walls clenching onto his fingers like a tight hug and with a sigh, he dropped his forehead onto Violet’s chest.

 

“Fuck, Tate – _please_.” Violet whined, bucking her hips up, trying to find the friction that she was in desperate need of.

 

Tate was fucking her with his fingers in earnest now, pressing his thumb against her clit, driving her crazy with slow and meticulous circles. Tate gave a lazy smile when Violet cried out and sat up, snapping her thighs shut against his hand.

 

“What do you need, Vi?” Tate whispered against the shell of her ear. “Just tell me, please. I’ll give you _anything_.”

 

Violet’s pupils were blown, her lips slicked and swollen. “I just—I _need_ … fuck Tate, I need to feel you inside again.” Violet whispered, not trusting her vocal cords.

 

“Yes Ma’am.” Tate grinned, trying to mimic a southern gentleman’s accent.

 

Violet let out a weak laugh and pulled the boy’s head down to capture his plush lips. Both teenagers struggled for dominance with their mouths, Violet eventually backed down and let Tate take the reigns, she liked being submissive, not that she would ever willingly admit that to him. And then all of a sudden Tate’s fingers disappeared, and before Violet could whine about the sudden emptiness, she felt the head of Tate’s cock pressing against the place where she needed him the most.

 

“What do you need? I need to hear you say it.” Tate whispered against Violet’s lips, a smirk spreading across his mouth.   


Violet let out a frustrated groan as she arched her back; she gave a futile attempt to roll her hips down on Tate’s cock, but was stopped by a firm grip on her hips.

 

_“Tell me.”_ Tate hissed, grabbing onto Violet’s chin, making her focus on his black, bottomless eyes.

 

“Fuck _you_.” Violet growled, she hooked her heels against Tate’s calf and in one swift motion she forced his hips against hers. Tate’s cock slammed deep into Violet and pressed against that precious spot she could never reach with just her fingers.

 

“Jesus that’s not fair.” Tate gasped against Violet’s neck, he traced her jugular with his tongue.

 

“Fucking move, _now.”_ Violet sobbed out as her fingernails scraped down Tate’s back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. Her request was granted when Tate’s hips snapped into action, his thrusts were unrelenting and the head of his cock kept pressing against that amazing spot deep inside of Violet.

 

She couldn’t stop the moans that tumbled from her lips, no matter how hard she wanted to preserve her aloof and detached persona. All Violet could think about was how she hadn’t been fucked like this since she was alive. Hayden was right; being dead really did make you horny as fuck.

 

“Please, _please,_ Tate. Harder, I need – ah! I need it harder.” Violet whined, pressing her head against the mattress and bucking her hips down to meet Tate’s thrusts.

 

Tate grinned, his faced was slicked with sweat and his body was flushed from exertion. He complied with Violet’s demands and reached to place Violet’s legs on top of his shoulders. With this new position, his thrusts became deeper, faster, animalistic almost.

 

Tate could tell that Violet was moments away from a groundbreaking orgasm, he could feel her sex clenching desperately against his cock, he saw how her body was quivering, absolutely shaking with need. Tate knew he needed to give Violet’s body a proper send-off.

 

Tate leaned closer towards Violet, basically folding her body in half. His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Come for me, Violet. Just let go.”

 

With that, Tate tangled his fingers in Violet’s hair and gave a sharp tug.

 

And that’s all Violet needed, the sharp pain combined with the toe-curling pleasure gave her the most powerful release. Violet’s whole body shook underneath Tate as she snapped her eyes shut, a long keening noise escaped from her throat. Tate groaned as he felt her spasm and clench against his cock.

 

“Ah! Violet – _fuck_.” Tate practically growled, his thrusts were erratic now as he was approaching his own release. Violet looked up at him and gave a lazy smile; she contorted her body until she was close enough to bite down on his neck, _hard._

Tate couldn’t control the shudder that crept down his spine as he emptied his release deep inside of Violet’s body. Her name escaped his lips as a long, desperate moan.

 

Violet smirked up at Tate, keeping her eyes locked on him as he rolled off of her and curled against her side. She sparked two cigarettes from them, taking a long draw from her filter.

 

“So.” Tate stated, taking a drag off his cigarette, and glancing uneasily towards Violet.

 

“So?” Violet replied, giving him a faint smile.

 

“Have I been properly absolved of my sins?” Tate asked, looking into Violet’s eyes.

 

“Well, you’re a sinner Tate. But then again, we all are.” Violet replied. She crushed out her cigarette and wrapped herself against Tate, resting her head on his chest.

 

“Can I use your body as a confessional?” Tate grinned when he heard Violet chuckle.

 

“Always.” Violet replied, leaning up and planting a soft kiss on Tate’s lips.

 

Nothing about their relationship would ever be perfect. The past was always right there behind them, but Tate knew that they could rebuild this broken relationship into something bulletproof, as long as they had a strong foundation.

 

 

 


End file.
